


Stop All The Clocks

by wave_of_sorrow



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Character Death, Kissing, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wave_of_sorrow/pseuds/wave_of_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson had often heard of time slowing down, becoming tangible, almost stilling completely, rendering you incapable of moving, of speaking, of breathing, forcing you to watch as everything crumbles around you in slow motion, unable to stop it, unable to interfere. Unable to even scream. He never experienced it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop All The Clocks

Time is a strange thing.

  
It is constant, in perpetual motion, never slowing, never accelerating, never stopping, limited, yet eternal.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Watson never thought much about time. He used the time he had as best he knew how, he tried to enjoy life, to do the right thing. But he never worried about time running out one day.

  
The ticking of the clock was but a friendly reminder to get things done.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is deceiving.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Watson had often heard of time slowing down, becoming tangible, almost stilling completely, rendering you incapable of moving, of speaking, of breathing, forcing you to watch as everything crumbles around you in slow motion, unable to stop it, unable to interfere. Unable to even scream.

  
He never experienced it. Not when bullets were flying around him and he had to watch his friends die. Not when he was hit himself, screaming as agonizing pain shot through his body.

  
It happened so quickly.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is cunning.

  
~*~*~*~

  
In the days when Watson was still recovering, when he could barely walk, when he wanted to scream his head off, when the pain was still so fresh, so bad, that he could barely breathe, time sped up even as the clock ticked impossibly slowly. A week went by in a heartbeat, while a minute took half an eternity to pass. One day he was lying in a hospital bed, the next he was limping through dreary London. One day he had no one and nothing and the next he had Holmes.

  
It all happened so very quickly.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is breathtaking.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Watson had never felt time slow down, had never felt the world become meaningless, had never felt his entire focus, his entire being narrow down to that singular moment. But when Holmes kissed him time lost all of its meaning. They lost themselves in an one-hour-eternity. They defied all laws of Physics. They dismantled the sun. They unhinged the very foundations of the Earth. They were invincible.

  
The ticking of the clock was irrelevant, because they were together.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is cruel.

  
~*~*~*~

  
For Watson, time never slowed down. Not once. Not for a second. Not even as Holmes’ heart stopped beating, even then it took no mercy on them. One second Holmes was laughing with him, sharing smiles over breakfast, pressing a kiss to his lips, and the next he was gone. Watson didn’t even have time to say good bye.

  
It all just happened so very quickly.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is treacherous.

  
~*~*~*~

  
In those days the clock seemed to tick more slowly, even as time sped past him. Watson counted the seconds, each one lasting a life time, as in front of his window the seasons changed in a blink of the eye. Time lost all of its meaning.

  
The ticking of the clock was irrelevant, because it was already too late.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is merciless.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Watson had never thought much about time. Not until it was already too late. Not until it had already run out. But even then, the world kept spinning, the sun kept rising, the clocks kept ticking and time went on. All around him, people got on with their lives, living as they always had. Though Watson remained the same, the stiffness in his joints the only indication that, even for him, time went on.

  
The ticking of the clock seemed loud in the empty silence of their home.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is wicked.

  
~*~*~*~

  
For the first time in Watson’s entire life, time slowed down, almost stopped completely, forced him to spend an eternity alone, mourning Holmes, putting fresh flowers onto his grave every day. Even as grief gripped his heart, with every tick-tock a weight was lifted from his chest.

  
The ticking of the clock was a reminder that he would be with Holmes again.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is a strange thing.

  
You will feel it slow down and speed up, changing even as it remains constant.

  
~*~*~*~

  
When Watson’s time had come, he barely had time to realize what was happening. It happened so quickly.

  
For Watson, the clock stopped ticking.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Time is.﻿


End file.
